


Molten Dreams of Amber

by Bokeijis__Ig



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji Is So Done, Bokuto is doing his best okay, Fluff, I REGRET NOTHING, I couldn't resist, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic, Training Camp, but also lots of angst, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22140781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bokeijis__Ig/pseuds/Bokeijis__Ig
Summary: Training camp, a very sick Akaashi, a giant storm, no power, everyone is freaking out. . .What could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji & Kenma Kozume, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou/Akaashi Keiji
Comments: 14
Kudos: 464





	Molten Dreams of Amber

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! After months of my followers and friends on Instagram begging me to write a sickfic, I have finally done it. Warning! If you don't like throwing up and normal sick stuff, this fic isn't for you! 
> 
> For Lev <3
> 
> \- Misty

It started off as a tiny tug in the bottom of his stomach, a budding uneasiness that only bloomed further as more time passed. An itch in the back of his throat was next, leaving him pondering and confused. 

Akaashi Keiji didn’t get sick, or at least that’s what he told himself. 

The last time he had gotten sick had been all the way back in primary school with a small fever, and then that one time in junior high, but even that was just a small cold that went away within a week. 

So instead of thinking more on the matter Akaashi just shrugged it off as being slightly carsick from the not-really-long bus ride to Shizen and settled back into his seat, closing his eyes with the goal of falling asleep. 

Goal. 

“Akaashi, Akaashi, Akaashi!” Bokuto chirped into his ear from where he sat next to him, golden eyes wide-rimmed with excitement. “Akaashi, are you excited?!” 

“Yes, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi mumbled, resisting the urge to groan in annoyance. He hoped his answer would be enough to satisfy his hyper seat mate, but to no avail. 

“What are you most excited about?” Bokuto asked, not waiting for Akaashi to answer before saying “I’m most excited to see Kuroo again! Oh, but I’m also really looking forward to seeing my lil’ disciple, Hina-chan is just so cute! Oh, but I’m also excited to see Daichi and the other captains. . .” 

Akaashi slowly opened one glacier colored eye to lightly glare at his ecstatic captain, hoping he would get the idea and be quiet for a few minutes so Akaashi could attempt to sleep before they arrived. 

Unfortunately, although he could be rather perceptive at times, Bokuto was too worked up to notice Akaashi’s silent order. Fortunately, someone else did. 

“Bokuto, shut up and let Akaashi sleep, will you?” Konoha snapped from his seat across the aisle, not even bothering to open his eyes or even glance in their direction. Bokuto closed his mouth mid-sentence and blinked dumbly, as if noticed he was rambling for the first time. 

Bokuto still looked a little lost when he sat back in his seat, staring at his covered toes. Akaashi sent a prayer to his lord and savior Konoha Akinori in his head, reclosing his eyes with the thought that _finally, he’ll be able to sleep_. 

Fate seemed to be against Akaashi today, well it was that or he just had a terrible case of bad luck. The moment Akaashi had finally felt himself being pulled into the calming depths of darkness known as a dreamless sleep the bus rolled to a halt, and various shouts were heard from both outside and inside the vehicle. Akaashi let out a tiny sigh as Bokuto hurriedly shook his shoulder, grinning wildly. 

“Akaashi, wake up! We’re here!” Bokuto nearly squealed, and Akaashi ran a tired hand over his face. 

“I’m awake, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi strained. 

“Then let’s go!” Bokuto exclaimed, climbing over Akaashi to race off the bus. Akaashi followed him, although at a much slower pace. Konoha gave him an apologetic look when Akaashi passed him, but Akaashi just shook his head to tell him everything was alright, he didn’t really mind Bokuto’s loud nature. 

Akaashi used one of his hands to shield his vision from the bright sun when he stepped off the bus, his eyes taking a minute to adjust. When they finally did he saw Bokuto and Kuroo hugging like they hadn’t seen each other in years, which was absurdly inaccurate. They did live in the same city, after all. 

When they seperated Akaashi saw Hinata bound up to Bokuto next, only to disappear in a pair of muscular arms seconds later. Akaashi looked away, feeling something cold twist itself throughout his body. He didn’t own Bokuto, he couldn’t control who he hugged or interacted with. Akaashi had no control over it. 

So why did it hurt so much?

“Keiji,” a soft voice greeted, and Akaashi looked up to see Kenma walking towards him. Seeing the older setter made Akaashi smile lightly, a reminder that yes, he did have some friends besides the ones on his team at camp. 

“Kenma,” Akaashi returned, nodding his head. The two didn’t embrace, respecting the fact that they both weren’t entirely comfortable with physical contact for greeting. 

“I see Bokuto is as. . . excitable as ever,” Kenma said, and Akaashi let out a small chuckle. 

“And I see Kuroo-san is as sly as he was the last time we met,” Akaashi answered, and Kenma put on a faint smile. 

“Akaashi! Kenma!” another familiar voice called out, and Akaashi turned to see Sugawara walking towards them with a friendly smile, arm outstretched in greeting. 

“Sugawara-san,” Akaashi acknowledged, and allowed himself to be pulled into a tight hug. Suga was smiling going into the action, but when he pulled away he was frowning, brown eyes searching for something in Akaashi’s face he didn’t even know he was hiding. 

“Akaashi, are you feeling alright?” Suga asked gently. “You’re awfully warm.” 

Suga’s words sent a tremble of fear throughout Akaashi, but he decided to ignore it. He wasn’t getting sick, simply because Akaashi didn’t _get_ sick. 

“I’m fine, Sugawara-san,” Akaashi reassured him. “I just sat next to Bokuto-san on the bus for a good half hour, and everyone knows Bokuto-san is like a human heater. I’m probably just warm because of him.” 

It sounded like a lame excuse even to Akaashi himself, but thankfully Suga didn’t push it, giving him a motherly smile instead. 

“If you feel sick you need to tell someone, okay?” Suga said, and Akaashi nodded. 

“I will. Thank you, Sugawara-san,” Akaashi said, and Suga quietly laughed. 

“Just trying to watch out for my fellow setters,” he said, winking at both Akaashi and Kenma before walking away. 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto yelled from across the yard, both he and Kuroo waving their arms in the air. “C’mon, let’s play some volleyball!” 

Akaashi sighed once more before sharing a glance with Kenma, who looked equally exasperated. 

“We should go before they start complaining,” Akaashi suggested, and Kenma nodded in agreement. They both started their journey to the gyms, trailing after their captains and mentally preparing themselves for the first long, grueling day of training camp. 

~~~

The day passed by rather quickly, but Akaashi couldn’t shake the strange feeling he had on the bus that morning. Normally lunch was very welcome to Akaashi, who could scarf down four onigiri on his own, but that day, just the thought of looking at food was unappetizing. 

But Akaashi didn’t get sick, so he ignored it. 

He forced himself to eat three onigiri, which he could feel swirling around in his stomach. A pressure was slowly building in the back of his head, which Akaashi blamed on dehydration. Every excited shout and yell from teammates and opponents alike felt like a bell going off near Akaashi’s brain, every time he set the ball into the air seemed to take more of his energy with it than normal. 

It took awhile for Akaashi to fall asleep that night, and this time it wasn’t because Bokuto wouldn’t settle down. In fact, the owlish boy went out like a light the second his head hit the pillow, completely exhausted from the day. 

No, it was the same stupid feeling he’d had all day, and it was really starting to irk Akaashi. He closed his eyes and sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time in forty five minutes, contemplating asking someone to knock him out the hard way when a punch of nausea rolled through him. 

Akaashi shot up into a sitting position, a hand coming up to cover his mouth immediately. Something was gurgling unhappily inside him, as much as he hated to admit it, he was afraid. Very, very afraid. He couldn’t get sick, he just couldn’t. He had to be there for his team during this time of growth. 

“Hmm? Akaashi, you okay?” a groggy voice whispered, Akaashi whipping his head towards the source. Komi was leaning up on one elbow, rubbing his eyes with his pointed finger and looking at Akaashi sleepily. 

Akaashi wanted to reply, do _anything_ , but he wasn’t entirely sure what would happen if he opened his mouth, so he kept it shut. 

He settled with a nod, hoping that he would look convincing enough. Komi blinked lazily at him for a few seconds before humming half heartedly and flopping back down on his futon, and Akaashi had a feeling he wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. 

Akaashi wasn’t entirely sure how long he stayed like that, praying that the feeling would pass. A half hour, maybe? Longer? Shorter? 

When it finally did Akaashi thanked every deity in his head, and exhausted, laid back down on his own futon. He closed his eyes, and this time it took only a few seconds for him to fall into a fitful sleep. 

~~~

“Akaashi, toss to me!” Bokuto called from across the court. Akaashi raised his arms automatically to catch the ball soaring his way. Not even a second after it landed in his hands he sent it in a high arc towards their team’s ace, who grinned happily and leapt into the air to meet it. 

The ball smashed through Nekoma’s blockers like paper, sending out a sound like a shockwave when it smacked onto the other side of the court. 

“Hey, hey, hey! I really am the best, after all!” Bokuto shouted, pumping his arms into the air. Kuroo sent Bokuto a nasty look Akaashi didn’t even bother paying attention to, knowing full well that Nekoma would make up for it later. 

Akaashi fanned himself with his jersey, the gym much too hot for only an hour into the day. It wasn’t even warm outside, dark clouds circling around the sky like vultures. Fat droplets were beginning to fall to the hard earth, and Akaashi guessed it would be pouring by lunch. 

At the thought of lunch Akaashi’s lips curled into a scowl, repulsed by the very idea of eating. He hadn’t even been able to _look_ at breakfast that morning, sneaking off to the room he and his teammates shared until it was finished. Of course he had been bombarded with questions from Bokuto afterwards, but he had managed to dodge them by saying he had eaten earlier. 

“Hey, Akaashi!” Bokuto said loudly, tugging on Akaashi’s sleeve. Akaashi jerked his head back up, blinking in surprise. Bokuto was studying him with a curious expression, golden eyes wide and innocent. 

“Hey, Akaashi, are you okay?” Bokuto asked in a much softer tone, concern beginning to lace his voice. “You’ve been acting all weird since yesterday.” 

“I’m fine, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi denied immediately, but now even he didn’t believe himself. He was way too hot, the air sticking to him like velcro. He was dangerously close to a headache, he could feel the pressure just about to spill over in his head. He could feel the food he ate the day before wiggling around in his stomach, not wanting to settle. 

“Your cheeks are flushed, and your breath is really hot,” Bokuto blurted out, and Akaashi bit the inside of his cheek. Leave it up to Bokuto to notice those things. 

“It’s just from all the exercise,” Akaashi said blandly, fighting to keep his emotions out of his voice. “I’m honestly fine, Bokuto-san.”

“But-” Bokuto brought his hand up, seemingly with the intention of putting it on Akaashi’s forehead, but Kuroo’s whistle cut him off. 

“C’mon, you love birds! There will be time to suck each others faces off in the bathroom later, right now it’s time to practice!” he shouted from the other side of the net, and Akaashi felt his cheeks being brushed with pink. Bokuto frowned at him but backed away, instead turning to Kuroo and giving him a murderous look. The Nekoma third year just gave a shit-eating grin in return, which only seemed to agitate Bokuto further. 

“The next point is going to be ours!” Bokuto declared, pointing an accusing finger at Kuroo. 

“There’s no way to tell for certain, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi chided him, getting into position. 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto wailed in response, making several people laugh. 

“Focus, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi reminded him, trying to keep his eyes on the ball rapidly coming towards him. It keep sliding in and out of focus, and Akaashi shook his head in hopes that it would clear whatever was clouding his vision. 

“I am focused!” Bokuto protested, and oh, shaking his head _definitely_ didn’t help. Akaashi felt him sway a little on his feet, and the moment the ball left his fingers Akaashi could tell it was too low for Bokuto’s liking. 

He wanted to apologize, do _something_ , but he felt himself tip dangerously on his feet and a muffled “Akaashi!” before the ground rushed up to meet him halfway. 

~~~

The second Akaashi cracked an eye open the nausea hit him full force, and Akaashi barely had ten seconds to realize what was happening. 

He was going to throw up. 

No, but that couldn’t be right. Akaashi couldn’t even remember the last time he had thrown up, it had been so long ago. Fear gripped Akaashi like an iron fist, and he tore his eyes open in search of anything that could help him, help him stop the nausea in its tracks before it came to the inevitable. 

Akaashi was in his futon, huddling underneath the blankets in an attempt to stop the chills that ran throughout his body even as his sweat soaked the covers. A metal bowl was next to his head, a rag hung on the rim. It was filled with what Akaashi assumed was ice water, most likely for his fever. 

A gray silhouette sat next to him, boredom evident in his eyes made of melted stars. He was leaning back on his right hand, using his left to scroll through social media on his phone. 

_Bokuto_. 

“Bo. . . Bokuto-san. . .” Akaashi croaked out, his fingers curling with how weak he sounded. Bokuto’s head snapped up, surprise written on his face. 

“Akaashi, you’re finally awake!” Bokuto exclaimed happily, a grin possessing his features. He tossed his phone to the side, instead reaching out the hand he had been leaning on to brush the hair off of Akaashi’s forehead that had stuck due to sweat. 

“Oh man, when you collapsed you scared the absolute _crap_ out of us, I nearly had a heart attack!” Bokuto laughed. In any other situation Akaashi might have softly joined in on his laughter, but something was pressing against his stomach and rising and it was _coming_ -

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi tried again, and he pressed a hand to his mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to get whatever was coming up to go _down_. A wet hiccup left his throat, saliva overflowing into his mouth. A little escaped his grip and dribbled down his chin, and Bokuto’s eyes widened with realization. 

“I’ll be right back!” Bokuto cried, scrambling to his feet and rushing out of the room faster than Akaashi had ever seen him move. Akaashi closed his eyes and concentrated, and it worked a little, but even he knew he was powerless to stop what was going to happen. 

Someone entered the room, and a touch on his shoulder made him flinch. 

“Akaashi, can you sit up?” Bokuto asked, setting down a box of tissues and plastic trash can next to Akaashi’s head. Akaashi shook his head, not wanting to experience the reaction his body would have if he moved. 

“Akaashi, I’m not going to let you choke,” Bokuto said firmly, and his hands came underneath the younger. Akaashi had almost forgotten how strong the ace was, Bokuto forcing him into a sitting position like he was made of feathers. Akaashi’s stomach gave a dangerous jolt, and he retched into his hand. Bokuto positioned the trash can beneath his chin, using one hand to keep it in place and the other to rub soothing circles on Akaashi’s back.

“Akaashi, stop fighting it,” Bokuto scolded him gently. “You’ll feel much better once you get it all out. Keeping it in will only make it worse.” 

“No,” Akaashi forced out, and he was surprised his voice still worked. However talking only made it worse, and something came up his throat, and fast. In fear Akaashi swallowed it, which was, put plainly, a very grave mistake. It came back up with twice the force, and Akaashi could _taste_ it on the back of his throat. 

“I know you’re afraid, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto whispered, never stopping rubbing Akaashi’s back. “But I promise you’ll feel better once you just get it out.” 

Another set of feet padded across the floor of their room, and Akaashi saw Konoha walking towards them with a concerned expression. He was carrying a water bottle and an extra set of clothes, which he placed down besides Bokuto. 

“Akaashi, I would listen to Bokuto if I were you,” Konoha advised, but Akaashi shook his head. Both Bokuto and Konoha sighed upon seeing this, and Konoha glanced at Bokuto. 

“I’ll guard the door and make sure no one comes in, give you guys some time alone,” Konoha said, and Bokuto nodded at him, grateful. “Even though he won’t admit it, I think one of the reasons why he’s fighting it is because Akaashi’s embarrassed.” 

“Probably,” Bokuto agreed, and Akaashi gave them both the best withering glare he could manage. It didn’t last for very long, another retch sent more saliva between his fingers, dripping into the bin below him. 

“I’ll go,” Konoha said, standing up again. “Call me when you finally get his stubborn ass to cooperate and I’ll help with whatever I can.” 

“Will do,” Bokuto confirmed. Konoha left, closing the door behind him. 

“C’mon, ‘Kaashi, stop being so stubborn for five seconds and let your body do what it wants to do,” Bokuto said, turning his attention back to Akaashi and sounding slightly exasperated. “If you don’t I’m going to just have to force you to eat something-”

The mention of food was apparently the last straw for Akaashi’s stomach, and a rush of bile came up his throat, Akaashi barely having enough time to move his hand before it poured out of his mouth and into the trash can below his chin. 

“There we go, you’re going great, Akaashi,” Bokuto soothed, hand never leaving Akaashi’s back. The pressure from Bokuto’s hand was enough to send another wave up from Akaashi’s stomach, and silent tears began to flow down his cheeks. 

“I know, baby, it’s almost over,” Bokuto mumbled. “You really weren’t feeling well, huh?” 

Akaashi shook his head with a sob, the back of his throat burning with every breath. By instinct Akaashi tried to swallow to try and get rid of the feeling, which only triggered another round of vomiting. 

Another minute passed with Akaashi emptying his stomach of everything he had eaten the last three days, and when there was no more Akaashi threw up stomach acid, his throat feeling like it was on fire. 

Another minute passed and now Akaashi was dry heaving over the bin, gripping the sides so hard his knuckles turned white. Refuse dripped down his chin, and Bokuto let go of the bin to grab a tissue. He carefully wiped off Akaashi’s face of tears and vomit with all the care of a mother while Akaashi cried to himself. When Bokuto was done he threw the tissues into the now filled trash can and set it to the side, placing a hand on Akaashi’s cheek. 

“You did so great, baby,” Bokuto whispered. “I know it sucks, but you did so great. I’m so proud of you.”

“It hurts,” was all Akaashi could choke out, and Bokuto wrapped him in a comforting hug, placing his chin on the top of Akaashi’s head. He shushed him gently as Akaashi sobbing into his shirt, not even seeming to care that Akaashi covered his clothes in sweat and tears. 

The door clicked open again, Konoha coming in cautiously. Akaashi felt he and Bokuto share a look above his head, and Konoha wordlessly picked up the trash can and left the room again.

Several minutes passed where Akaashi tried compelling himself to stop crying, and eventually Bokuto pulled him away gently. 

“I-I’m sorry. . .” Akaashi blubbered out, feeling pathetic at his loss of control. He hated it, the feeling of helplessness as his own body didn’t listen to him. 

“Akaashi, sweetheart, look at me,” Bokuto said, taking Akaashi’s face in his face. Akaashi’s puffy eyes slowly met Bokuto’s gaze, golden eyes sturdy and warm. Akaashi miserably thought that he must look really bad if Bokuto was using pet names; he only did that when he pitied someone.

“Akaashi, I don’t pity you,” Bokuto said, as if reading his thoughts. “But I am worried about you, and I have a right to be with you being this sick. I know you get scared whenever you don’t have control over something, and honestly seeing you scared makes me scared, too.” 

“I don’t like feeling like this,” Akaashi said miserably, his eyes feeling hot with the crying and fever. 

“I can tell,” Bokuto joked, and despite the situation Akaashi felt himself smile a little. At seeing it Bokuto cracked his own grin, and he ruffled Akaashi’s hair in a playful manner. 

“Good kid,” Bokuto said, and once again the door opened. Konoha came in again just like he said he would, but this time Komi and their coach followed at his heels. 

“Akaashi, are you okay?!” Komi asked frantically, racing over to them. 

“I’m fine, Komi-san,” Akaashi said, but he knew he would have a difficult time convincing anyone that he was indeed fine after the events that just happened. 

“Akaashi, you should have told me if you were feeling ill,” their coach chided, crouching down beside him. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Akaashi said softly, bowing his head in shame. 

“I’m not mad, Akaashi,” their coach reassured him. “Just worried, it seemed like your stomach was trying to get rid of more than just what you ate for the past couple days.” 

“Oh,” Akaashi said dumbly, and their coach chuckled lightly before putting the back of his hand on Akaashi’s forehead. 

“You’re definitely running a very high fever,” their coach frowned. “Until that goes down and your stomach isn’t trying to purge itself, I can’t let you play.” 

Akaashi’s eyes widened, even though he saw this coming. He lowered his head as shameful tears once again slid down his cheeks, his fever making his emotions slip more than usual. Bokuto’s sturdy hands came up to wipe them away, and their coach stood up again. 

“Since the dorms are in a different building then the gyms and medical office I’m going to go get the medicine instead of bringing you to it,” he said. “I don’t want you moving.”

After seeing Akaashi’s silent nod their coach strode out of the room, and Konoha dipped the rag into the bucket beside them, wringing it out before bringing it up to Akaashi’s face. He began to gently wipe away the various bodily fluids that Bokuto and his tissue missed, and Akaashi hummed pleasantly. The cold rag felt nice against his skin. 

“I’m sure this feels good,” Konoha grinned, and Akaashi nodded. 

“Bokuto, why don’t you change into a spare shirt?” Komi suggested, and Akaashi immediately felt guilty. Bokuto saw it in an instant, and lightly clicked his tongue at the other. 

“Akaashi, stop feeling guilty,” he said. “You had no control over what happened.” 

Akaashi just nodded glumly as Konoha finished wiping down his face, and Bokuto stood up to go grab a spare shirt. 

“You should see the storm outside, Akaashi, it’s crazy!” Komi jumped in, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s pouring really hard, and the wind is absolutely insane!”

“We’ll take a video for you when we go outside to get to the gyms,” Konoha said, and Bokuto came back in a fresh shirt. He was holding another pair of clothes, most likely for Akaashi. 

“How does a bath sound, yeah?” Bokuto said, flashing Akaashi a grin. The younger hummed, the idea of a bath very appealing at the moment. 

“Good idea, let’s get you out of these soiled clothes,” Konoha said. Bokuto nodded in agreement, and handed Akaashi’s spare clothes to Konoha. Bokuto leaned down before Akaashi could protest that he could walk on his own and picked him up like he was nothing, cradling Akaashi to his chest bridal-style. 

A light flush came to Akaashi’s cheeks, something he could easily blame on the fever. He instead used this rare opportunity to appreciate Bokuto’s toned muscles, something he wouldn’t be able to do anymore once he got better. 

When they got to the bath Bokuto helped him strip, and Konoha and Komi stood on guard duty while Bokuto helped him bathe, carefully keeping Akaashi’s boundaries in mind. 

The hot water and steam did nothing to help his fever, until Akaashi could feel every pulse of his heart in his head. It rang against his skull, making it almost impossible to think. Just when Akaashi wasn’t sure he could take it anymore Bokuto turned off the shower, and grabbed Akaashi’s towel. He held it open for him like Akaashi’s own mom used to do for him when he was little, and he suppressed a snort as he let Bokuto wrap the towel around his shivering body. 

Bokuto raised his hand and used one finger to boop Akaashi’s nose, laughing at the face he pulled. After Bokuto helped Akaashi dry off he helped him put on his fresh clothes, throwing his soiled ones and towel in the Fukurodani laundry hamper. 

Akaashi insisted on walking back to their room on his own, but ended up leaning heavily on Bokuto anyway. All the energy seemed to have gone out of his body, leaving him drained and more than ready for sleep. 

They were almost back to the room when the overhead lights flickered, and a loud _pop!_ ran through the air. The hallway went dark, everything running on electricity shutting down.

“That sounded like the transformer,” Bokuto commented, pulling out his phone. He switched on the flashlight, lighting up their path. They made it back to the room without tripping and falling on anything, thankfully, and made it back to their room in one piece. 

Bokuto helped Akaashi over to his futon, and the second Akaashi was safely on the ground he crawled underneath the covers of his futon, exhaustion running through his veins like lead. Bokuto sat down beside him and ran a rough hand through Akaashi’s still damp hair, frowning at the fever that met his skin. 

Akaashi let out a pleasant hum at the feeling of Bokuto’s hands against his hot skin, and at the sight Bokuto couldn’t help but smile. 

“Sleep,” Bokuto murmured, and Akaashi was too tired to fight it. 

Sleep tugged at Akaashi’s mind, beckoning him in its sweet voice. He allowed himself to be pulled into its comforting arms, and through his fever-hazed mind Akaashi thought he heard Bokuto say “I love you.” 

~~~

Faces faded in and out of Akaashi’s dreams, or maybe it was reality? He wasn’t quite sure anymore, the line between dream and real life faded to a simple smudge in his roaring fever. At one point Konoha’s face appeared in front of him, pushing a bottle of water against his lips. The cold water had cooled some of the burning in Akaashi’s body, but not for very long. 

His coach’s face appeared after Konoha’s had left, and Akaashi thought he looked afraid. He couldn’t fathom why, this was just a dream, there was nothing to fear here. 

“This is just a dream. . .” Akaashi slurred, hoping to convince his coach he had nothing to fear, once he woke up this would all disappear. He would go play volleyball with people he considered his friends and toss for Bokuto, who also happened to be his crush. 

Akaashi faded back into sleep, his very being feeling like it was drowning in flames. Swirling pools of lustrous gold floated to the top of his conscience the most, mostly filled with concern or worry. Akaashi wanted to reach out, to tell that beautiful color that everything was alright. He felt stuck, like there was a wall of fire he didn’t dare touch in fear of getting burned. 

Something rose in his chest, like a tsunami thundering towards the Japanese shore. There was a siren in the form of a human voice, warning people to get away. But not that beautiful color, no, that stayed. 

Something was thrust underneath his chin to catch whatever was spilling from his mouth; Akaashi didn’t know what it was. It scorched his tongue and the back of his throat like acid, and droplets of liquid fever were covering his cheeks, burning, forever burning. 

Dreams dripped onto the path of his mind before hardening, Akaashi tripping over every single one. Akaashi found himself memorized with one in particular; it was those enthralling embers that could rival the stars, but they were shining with unshed tears. Akaashi walked towards it, cautious, reaching out a hand, until a hand came from the veil to greet him and Akaashi fell in surprise, fell to the hard path made of memory. 

The moment he was about to actually _connect_ with it his eyes opened, crusted over from the countless hours he had spent asleep. His entire body ached, his head and stomach standing out the most. His hand was covered in a warmth not like the unwelcome one of sickness, and Akaashi’s eyes weakly slid over to where his hand was intertwined with Bokuto’s, who was lit up with lamp light. 

“Boko. . . Bokuto-san. . .” Akaashi whispered, not able to make his voice go any higher. If he could Akaashi would’ve raised an arm to poke Bokuto in the arm, but his entire body felt weighed down. Thankfully Bokuto heard him, and his head whipped up so fast Akaashi thought about chiding him about being careful so he didn’t hurt his neck. 

The thought died the second Akaashi saw that indeed, Bokuto’s eyes were shining with the solid form of despair, and seeing Akaashi awake was enough of a trigger to send them streaming down his soft skin. 

“Akaashi. . .” Bokuto hiccuped, and before Akaashi could say anything more Bokuto pressed his face into Akaashi’s side, letting out loud, ugly sobs. 

But then again to Akaashi, nothing about Bokuto was ugly. 

“Bokuto-san, what’s wrong?” Akaashi asked gently, forcing his arm into the air. His began to slowly card his fingers through Bokuto’s gelled hair, ignoring the fact that his arm felt ten times heavier than what it normally was. 

Bokuto took several minutes to rein in his emotions, but finally he raised his head with a sniffle, taking one of the tissues beside Akaashi’s futon to blow his nose. 

“Akaashi, you scared the _shit_ out of me, you know that?” Bokuto complained, giving Akaashi a pointed look that held no blame. 

“What happened?” Akaashi rasped out, and Bokuto picked up the water bottle next to him, unscrewing the cap before placing it on Akaashi’s cracked lips. He helped Akaashi take small, cautious sips before Akaashi pushed the bottle away, unable to drink any more. 

“You’ve had a fever of 103 degrees for the last three days,” Bokuto informed him, and Akaashi’s eyes widened. Bokuto looked down at where his hands were fisted into the material of his pants, seemingly unable to meet Akaashi’s gaze. 

“You don’t notice it, but there’s a typhoon outside right now,” Bokuto continued, and now that he mentioned it Akaashi did hear pounding against the walls of the dorms from outside. 

“It was too dangerous to go outside, so coach couldn’t get medicine for you from the medical office. Everyone has been stuck inside the dorms for the past three days, all of which you’ve been delirious with fever.” 

“I see. . .” Akaashi said, and he looked at Bokuto tentatively. “Why did you start crying when you saw that I was awake?” 

Bokuto visibly stiffened, but it lasted for only a second before he let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip. 

“We almost called for an ambulance, Akaashi,” Bokuto said softly, and now it was Akaashi’s turn to be surprised. “You were so sick, you sweat through every change of clothes we gave you in minutes and wouldn’t keep anything down, not even water. That and the fever didn’t help with dehydration, and at times you would just burst into tears for no reason.” 

Akaashi was shocked to silence, and Bokuto took that as his cue to continue. 

“Coach tried going outside to see if he could get to the medical center, but every time he tried he failed. The no power thing didn’t help either, but everyone felt the effects of that,” Bokuto huffed, and Akaashi’s lips tugged into the faintest of smiles. Bokuto’s face fell once more, and he gulped. 

“We were so close, Akaashi, Konoha even picked up his phone, dialed and everything. . .” Bokuto struggled to get out, and Akaashi gave him a curious look. 

“So why didn’t you?” he asked.

“A tree fell on the power lines, cutting off service for all mobile devices,” Bokuto said bitterly. He finally met Akaashi’s eyes, and Akaashi saw the relief in them. 

“By some miracle your fever is down now,” Bokuto said. “It’s only at 100 degrees right now so still fairly high, but unless it goes up again we should be able to take care of you on our own.” 

Akaashi nodded the best he could; what Bokuto said was true, he still felt the lick of heat only a fever could bring behind his eyes. 

A string of pain suddenly raced through his body, and Akaashi grit his teeth as a low groan slipped through them. 

“Akaashi? What’s wrong?!” Bokuto asked, panic leaking into his tone. Akaashi closed his eyes and managed to turn onto his side, trying to huddle closer to Bokuto as a shiver ran through him. 

“Hurts. . .” was all he mumbled out, but Bokuto seemed to understand. 

“I’ll go get coach, tell him you’re awake.” Bokuto started to stand up, but Akaashi’s hand came out to catch the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Akaashi?” Bokuto asked, confused. 

“Stay. . .” Akaashi muttered, looking at Bokuto through half lidded eyes. “Please. . .” 

Bokuto hesitated before nodding, and slightly pulled back the covers to shimmy underneath them. Akaashi snuggled against his chest without a second thought, smiling to himself as Bokuto reached out an arm to pull Akaashi closer to his chest and lazily threw a leg over Akaashi’s own. 

For the first time in days, Akaashi didn’t fall into a sleep overcome with deliria. 

~~~

When Akaashi awoke next, it was to the sound of cheering. He was still cuddled into Bokuto’s chest, the other members of his team all waking up and rubbing their eyes as well. 

“Wus going on. . .?” Bokuto grumbled, sleep mixing his words. 

“Dunno. . .” Akaashi replied, letting out a little yawn. 

“The power is back on!” someone shouted from the hallway, and Akaashi heard multiple “yes!”’s from his team. 

“Well, good morning, love birds,” Konoha smirked from above them, and Akaashi reclosed his eyes with a sigh. 

“Oh, screw off, Konoha. . .” Bokuto said, trying to kick the blonde from underneath the blankets. The wing spiker was easily able to fend off the attacks and went away, cackling. 

“C’mon, Bokuto, you have to get up!” Konoha called. 

“Don’t wanna!” Bokuto whined in response. “I’m comfy!” 

“Bokuto-san, you should probably get up,” Akaashi decided to intervene. 

“Bokuto, get your lazy ass out of bed and let Akaashi rest,” Komi said, coming up behind the captain and kicking him. Bokuto jumped, jostling Akaashi in the process. 

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” Bokuto muttered unhappily, untangling himself from the setter and getting out from underneath the covers. Akaashi shivered from the sudden absence of warmth, and Komi crouched down beside him. 

“How you feeling, ‘Kaashi?” he asked, pressing the back of his hand against Akaashi’s forehead. “You still feel feverish, but that’s to be expected with how bad of a fever you’ve had for the past few days. You really gave us a scare.” 

Akaashi only hummed in response, already wanting to go back to sleep. Komi saw this and chuckled, standing upright again. 

“I’ll let you sleep, you’re probably exhausted,” he said, and Akaashi nodded. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it.” 

He and the rest of the team left, leaving Akaashi to be engulfed in darkness. 

~~~

The soft drone of a video game was next. When Akaashi looked to the person beside the futon, excepting Bokuto, he was instead met with black dyed roots and a bored expression. 

“Kenma,” Akaashi said quietly, stating the obvious. Kenma’s eyes widened the smallest fraction, his bangs falling back as he looked up at his friend. 

“Keiji,” Kenma returned, and Akaashi heard the lightest lick of relief in the setter’s voice. 

“What time is it?” Akaashi asked groggily, pulling his arms from underneath his thick blankets to stretch them above his head. 

“Ten in the morning,” was Kenma’s simple answer. “The storm still hasn’t settled down, and the others were starting to get antsy from sitting still for so long. They’re attempting a volleyball match in the common room right now.” 

“Oh god,” Akaashi groaned, letting his hands fall onto his face. That was going to end in disaster; he was surprised one of the coaches hadn’t stopped it yet. 

“Where’s Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked instead of asking why the _hell_ they thought it was a good idea to volleyball inside. Something like amusement flickered behind Kenma’s metallic eyes, and for once, he set down his gaming counsel. 

“Playing, of course,” he said. “Your coach wanted Bokuto to play a little bit so he could work some of the nerves out of his system.”

“Nerves- oh,” Akaashi realized. It all came gushed back; his fever, the almost-call to the hospital, Bokuto’s tears when he saw Akaashi awake. . . 

“I’ll go get him for you,” Kenma said blankly, standing up. Akaashi retracted his words as his eyes widened, coming to the other realization that his words could have come across as rude.

“I apologize, Kozume-san, I didn’t mean-” Akaashi started to say, reverting back to what he used to call Kenma before the smaller boy started to feel uncomfortable with Akaashi’s formal way of speaking. 

“Keiji, you didn’t offend me,” Kenma said with a wave of his hand, dismissing Akaashi’s concern. “I’m going to get Bokuto-san because I want to go back to my room and game by myself, and because he’s probably already chewing his arm off in worry. Not because you offended me.” 

Akaashi snapped his mouth shut at Kenma’s declaration, the bluntness of his words making a small smile dance across Akaashi’s features. 

“Thank you, Kenma,” Akaashi settled for instead, and the Nekoma setter nodded his head once before leaving the room to go fetch Akaashi’s worry-ridden upperclassman. 

Akaashi certainly didn’t have to wait long, hearing the loud “Akaashi!” from the hallway even from his room. When Bokuto stumbled through the door seconds later, hair disheveled and breathing a little too heavily, sweat tracing his skin, Akaashi assumed it was from playing and then rushing to his aid. 

Although he would never admit it, Akaashi found it a little endearing, and he hid a soft smile behind the back of his blanket. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto repeated, such relief and sincerity in his tone Akaashi had the urge to run up and hug him. However, Akaashi’s body greatly protested that action, so he stayed put and let Bokuto come to him. He did so in less than five strides, falling to his knees beside the fever-ridden younger. 

“Akaashi, you okay?” Bokuto whispered, gently pushing a hand against Akaashi’s forehead. Akaashi hummed as an answer, not feeling the need to respond with actual words. 

“Still warm,” Bokuto muttered, more to himself then Akaashi. 

“I’m fine, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said. “Honestly, you don’t need to worry about me so much.”

“I know,” Bokuto said simply, surprising Akaashi. “You’re not a big baby like me, you can take care of yourself. But I guess seeing you like this, weak and out of control, I suddenly feel the need to like. . . shelter you? Does that make sense?” 

Akaashi stared, somewhere in his mind telling him he probably looked like a goldfish opening and closing his mouth so much. Bokuto took Akaashi’s silence as a sign he said or did something wrong, and he began to wildly wave his hands in front of him, starting to look panicked. 

“No, that’s not what I meant! Well I mean like yes, technically that _is_ what I meant because I said it, but I know you don’t like people paying too much attention to you or something like that, a-and I know you don’t like people fussing over you so I just want to step in and stop that-”

Bokuto was completely lost in his ramble, frantically trying to explain himself. Akaashi probably would have begun to feel the itch of irritation under his skin if this were any other situation, but here, lying in a sweat-soaked futon, still running a small fever and on the verge of a headache, Akaashi found it so precious it was almost too much to bear. 

It started off as a little giggle in the back of his throat, spreading throughout his entire body until Akaashi’s body was shaking with his laughter. Bokuto was staring at him, mouth gaped open, until he seemed to realize he was staring and closed his mouth with a clack of teeth, blush gently biting his cheeks. 

When Akaash finally calmed down he gazed at Bokuto with the fondest look he could muster, reaching out for the ace’s hand. Bokuto took it without question, and Akaashi gave him a smile with all the tenderness of freshly fallen snow. 

“It’s alright, Bokuto-san, I understand,” Akaashi assured him, and the other nodded. “I appreciate it, really.” 

Bokuto beamed, pleased to get such high praise from the setter that was usually described as reserved. Bokuto knew better than that; Akaashi just had to get close to someone before opening up. 

The short-lived peace was ripped to shreds when the moment Akaashi was dreading finally came, and a pounding headache like a gunshot went off in his head. His ears rang with the force and Akaashi curled into himself, groaning. 

“Akaashi?” Bokuto asked cautiously, and Akaashi shook his head lightly. 

“I’m fine, Bokuto-san,” he managed to grit out. “It’s just a headache.” 

“Just a headache my ass,” Bokuto scoffed, and despite the circumstances Akaashi couldn’t help but think _yes, you do have a very nice ass_. 

“Bokuto-san, I’m honestly fine-” Akaashi thought he would try once more, even though he knew it was futile. Bokuto was apparently having none of that, taking Akaashi’s shoulders and forcing him into a sitting position. 

Instead of fighting it Akaashi gloomily accepted his fate, crossing his legs so he would be more comfortable. His headache blurred his vision and made the sounds around him muffled, but it didn’t dull his sense of touch. 

Akaashi was not expecting, however, to feel Bokuto’s wide fingers carding through his hair. 

Bokuto’s fingers worked their way from the back of his head upward, messaging and carassing every inch of skin on Akaashi’s head. Slowly but surely the younger began to feel the tension racing around in his skull slip away, and his eyes slid closed in a pleasant hum. 

Bokuto didn’t stop his work seeing this, if anything it seemed to spur him on further. Bokuto’s fingers began to apply only a dab bit more pressure, and Akaashi let out a hiss at the pain it created. 

“Ah shit, did I hurt you?” Bokuto’s voice was apologetic and he began to pull his hands away, but Akaashi’s sharp voice stopped him.

“Don’t stop.”

“So bossy.” He felt the grin in Bokuto’s voice, but his fingers continued their work so Akaashi didn’t feel the need to say anything more. 

By the time Bokuto had finished massaging the areas around Akaashi’s temple’s the raven-haired boy was halfway asleep, the older smiling to himself when he saw. Akasahi felt the tough skin of Bokuto’s hands fall onto his cheeks, and Akaashi opened one graceful eye to flick it over Bokuto, then opened the other. 

Neither of them dared to move, studying each other with a pricked interest being this close gave them. Akaashi didn’t miss the way Bokuto’s eyes scanned Akaashi’s lips, then quickly looked up again to deny the action. Bokuto’s warmth breath circled around Akaashi’s neck like a necklace, the sensation of being so close oddly comforting. 

Bokuto leaned in closer by only half an inch, but it didn’t pass by Akaashi’s observing nature. 

“Bokuto-san, I’ve been really sick lately and I still have a small fever.” Akaashi’s voice sounded small, even to his own ears.

“I don’t care,” was all Bokuto said before he wiped away any space remaining between them. 

The first thing, Akaashi thought, was that Bokuto’s lips were soft. At least, softer then he had expected. Then he had a second thought, which consisted of _oh my god my crush is actually kissing me is this another fever dream-_

Akaashi found himself leaning into the kiss, deepening it, but not daring to open his mouth in fear of spreading more germs than he already had. There was already a high risk in this, but Akaashi couldn’t bring it in himself to care. 

When they finally broke apart to scrap air into their lungs Akaashi sat stunned, mouth slightly agape and cheeks flushed with something that wasn’t a fever for the first time in days. Bokuto was grinning like he was the luckiest guy in the world, a triumph of sorts gleaming bright and clear in his eyes. 

Bokuto leaned their foreheads together, while Akaashi was still grappling with the situation. A soft laugh left the lips Akaashi desperately wanted to kiss again, and the hands on his cheeks moved themselves to his waist. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Bokuto confessed without a hint of shame, and Akaashi nodded. He had finally found the words he wanted to say, and he forced them out before his throat threatened to close again.

“Thank you, Koutarou. For everything.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream about BokuAka and Haikyuu with me on Instagram! My account is @/bokeijis__


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